


It's My Heart That's Late

by ThePamelaOracle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coda, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePamelaOracle/pseuds/ThePamelaOracle
Summary: Dean is ok with dying. It's this new heaven he's not too sure about.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 200
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	It's My Heart That's Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VioletHaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHaze/gifts), [blue_morning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_morning/gifts), [ChelseaWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaWren/gifts).



> I didn't set out to write this. But VioletHaze (Janet) kept saying that it wasn't fair that Dean ended up alone when everyone else got their happily ever after, and Chelsea said that Cas deserved to know he was loved in return. Their words got in the way when I tried to write something else entirely. I was just going to leave it with all the other SPN stuff that litters my google drive, but Janet said it helps us all to process. She's usually right. 
> 
> Also dedicated to blue_morning. I introduced her to SPN when it came to Netflix way back when, In turn, she introduced me to all of this. 
> 
> (I said I would never write a Coda. Yet, here we are...)  
> (The title is stolen from a poem called Touch Me by Stanley Kunitz.)

Over the years, there were instances where Cas was clearly trying to tell Dean something without words. Dean knew he was and Dean, unable to cope with whatever was happening, ignored them. Dean knows this, knows now he has to live with the guilt of this. He chose not to play along, not to ask what Cas wanted. And Cas, being Cas and sensitive to all that shit or not understanding, (probably not understanding), never pressed the issue. And Dean managed to convince himself that flirting was just what they did and it didn’t mean anything more than that. Even if he got butterflies in his stomach every single time. 

Then Cas, that ridiculous SOB, allows himself to get sucked into the empty to save Dean and tells him that he meant it all along. Cas was in love with him and Dean, well, Dean was in love with Cas, but just wouldn’t let himself admit it. There are any number of reasons for this, he could blame John Winchester’s homophobic views or that as “Daddy’s blunt instrument” he wasn’t supposed to have feelings. Not feelings like this anyway. Or maybe he just didn’t want to face the rejection of the only person he has ever loved like that. Could be, that Dean never really got over the fact that Cas was somehow slumming it with him and that one day the angel would be gone for good. Forever. 

Guess that’s what ended up happening in the end. With an “I love you, Dean” he was gone. 

What the hell is Dean supposed to do now? Dean is a mess. And he’s not ready to talk about it. Sam knows something’s wrong but Jack rebuilt the world and well, Sam’s got Eileen and a chance at his happily ever after. The love of Dean’s life got sucked into the void. Probably to never return. Maybe Dean deserves this end for, well, any number of things that have happened since he got sent to hell. Probably for a few things before that too. So Dean pretends. Pretends he doesn’t miss Cas with every single ounce of his being, pretends to smile, and love pie. Mostly, deep down. He hates himself. Eternity is a long time to realize that your only chance at happiness has, more than likely, passed you by. 

But if Cas’s death has to mean something, and the world is saved, maybe Cas’s last gift was a semblance of a normal life. Maybe now is his time to bow out of the monster game, get a job in the middle of nowhere midwest, fix a few cars. Alone, with minimal human interaction and wait out his time topside. He knows enough to know that when he passes it’s not the end, but heaven just doesn’t hold much appeal. 

He starts planning what retirement looks like. Figures out how to get a job, go legit. Find a small town somewhere that needs a gas station and a garage. A place that doesn’t ask too many questions. It keeps his mind busy. In the meantime, he and Sam take on a few inconsequential monsters. Easy ones: salt and burns, a possessed object or two. Nothing with teeth. Mostly. 

The end comes more quickly and more stupidly than he’d imagined. A rusted nail, as if whoever the new Death is, has decided that enough is enough. Dying a billion times and surviving, if anything was going stick, it may as well be this. All these ridiculous adventures, and in the end, he dies for good impaled on a piece of rebar. He promised himself he would allow whatever was supposed to happen, happen. He wouldn’t call in any favours. He would just let himself go. He hoped it would be quick. 

Sam wants to save him. But for once in his life, Sam listens and doesn’t call for help. Had he realized it was going to take so long to bleed out, he might have allowed Sam to call an ambulance. Save him a long death speech. At least, he got to say goodbye to Sam. Not the first time, maybe the last, but that’s unlikely too. Dean hopes this will be the clean break they both need. They’ve gone through a lot since he got electrocuted in the basement way back. 

In his last thoughts, he prays. 

“Cas, I love you. Had you asked, had you said anything, you could have had me too. Always.”

Then he is out of his body. He doesn’t remember this from the last deaths. Sam’s crying. Dean puts his hand on his shoulder, even though he knows Sam can’t feel it. He looks around. There are no reapers, there is no road, no bright light, nothing. Fuck, this can’t be good. He tries not to panic. 

“What do I do now?” 

He’s not sure why but he follows Sam as his brother loads his lifeless body into the trunk of the Impala. Sam hasn’t stopped crying but they are different tears this time. There is no rage, just acceptance. No cosmic plan to re-arrange. That’s today though, Dean hopes Sam doesn’t try to find some weird mojo to bring him back. 

They end up at the bunker, where Sam gets Miracle. Dean loves that dog, he’s in good hands with Sam. He thinks Miracle can see him, and follows Dean’s spirit around. 

“It’s just you and me, pup.” Sam says to the dog. Miracle barks. Dean still does not speak dog but he feels better knowing, Sam won’t be alone.

Dean tries to give Sam a sign, but it’s harder to move things than he remembered. Dean still isn’t sure what’s supposed to happen now. But he follows as Sam gathers a few things, picks up some salt, a clean white sheet and some wood for the pyre. Once or twice Sam looks over his shoulder.

“I keep expecting to see you there, Dean.”

“It’s because I am here, you fucking moron.” 

But Sam doesn’t hear, he doesn’t look too hard for Dean either. This is a good sign. Dean is ready for his next act. Part of him had hoped to see Cas when he died. Hoped he’d stand there in that stupid trenchcoat. “Hello, Dean. I’ve been waiting for you.” But no dice. Even death is disappointing.

“Tell you what Cas. You’re whole love ‘em and leave ‘em performance sucks ass. I need you. And you’re not here. Turns out, I was right the first time, all angels are dicks.”

Sam cries some more. Dean hates to see him hurt, but it’s better this way. Sam calls their closest friends to let them know. He tells Jody to stay away, Donna too -- they won’t listen, Dean knows that. His death will hurt them too. Eileen won’t make it in time. Sam tells them all he needs to the part alone. But the grieving, everyone will help him with. They’ll all spread the word. And as people leave after paying their respects, maybe Eileen can convince him that enough is enough, and he should find another way to help the world. 

Minus Cas, of course, who could maybe explain to Sam why Dean’s death is fair, and that Dean is truly ok with dying. Hopefully Cas will be there to comfort the grieving, unseen. He wonders how Sam feels about being the last man standing. 

Sam loads up the pick up Cas used to use, and drives off to the spot in the woods where they salted and burned most of a generations of hunters before them. He washes Dean’s body with a reverence that Dean has never noticed before. Then wraps it in a white shroud, ties it with natural hemp rope. Just like they've done with everyone around them who has passed before them. Sam cries. 

“God Dean, I thought we’d have more time. I hoped we could find a spot, you know. Get normal.” 

“Me too, Sammy. Me too.” 

Dean remembers how the physical labour of building the pyre felt good. The way his hands would get blisters from the ax, the way the smell of gasoline would linger on his skin for days. A small way to remember the dead -- a reminder to grieve. He never got that chance when Cas got sucked into the empty.

Sam looks over the pyre, flicks the zippo lighter and throws it in. Dean recognizes it as his own. It is only once the flames reachhis body that he finally sees the path. He pats Miracle’s head, and ruffles Sam’s hair one last time. 

“Not sure when I’ll see you again. Hopefully not for a long long time. I love you, Sammy.” Then it all changes. 

Dean finds himself standing outside the Roadhouse, it’s heaven. Bobby waves him over. It’s good to see him. This is his Bobby, the man who was more of a father to him than his one. Dean’s relieved it isn’t John. 

“It’s what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together,” Bobby explains. His parents live down the way, Rufus too.

Except it’s not true. Not really. Dean’s feeling a lot of things. Happy isn’t one of them.

For one his father is here. He’d hoped to be free from his father’s clutches for good. He might go see his mom, but his dad, well, there are issues and he needs to unpack first. He’ll avoid his dad for the next little while, until he can forgive. He hoped death would wipe the slate clean but it hasn’t. Guess, even in death nothing is tidy, nothing is resolved.

Happiness, well, everyone may be happy, but he’s not there yet. He feels guilt at leaving Sam, angry that it ended when it was just getting good. Lots of shit, he hoped to fix. He wonders if there are people here, who will rightfullywant to avoid him. Probably. Maybe they’ve come to forgive him. Maybe he should learn to forgive as well. Don’t mean he’s going to his parents for dinner any time soon. 

Bobby says Jack and Cas rebuilt this place. No more walls, no more being stuck in memories. Just good times with people you love, people you were meant to be with forever. But there is no Cas. He’s not sure what to make of that. 

“I think I’ll go for a drive,” he finally says to Bobby, as he looks over to the Impala. He fakes a bit of a smile. There is hope, if nothing else. If Cas helped Jack with this, that means he’s out of the Empty. He’s here, somewhere. 

“Cas, where are you, man?”

He turns on the radio. “Carry On…” He loves this song. It’s a lie though, there is no peace. Still he wonders about the mechanics of this place. How does it work? Could he drive to Hawaii? Are there walls he’ll suddenly find himself bumping up against? Can he just create things as he wants them? What about the souls, can he just call anyone up? 

There are things he always wanted to do when he was alive. Concerts he never attended. Could he see the band Kansas play in the Roadhouse for him? Would that accidentally kill the band? If he wanted Zeppelin or something, would poor Robert Plant drop dead? (It occurs to him that Jimmy Page is probably some sort of monster that needed ganking, but dude was brilliant on the guitar.) 

On cue, Zeppelin’s Kashmir comes on the radio. He’s always loved the way the tension builds throughout this song. He realizes that the sound system on Baby has gotten an upgrade. It sounds far better than it ever has. He wonders if he’s really hearing the song or if it’s that he’s remembering the feeling of it. What Plant’s moans have always done for him should have been his first clue that straight wasn’t exactly his thing. (And damn, the sight of the singer in those super low rise jeans from those videos of back in the day. Whoa.) 

“Oh baby, I been blind…”

Indeed.

Dean sees an image of getting Cas ready for his date with Nora and how he looked in jeans. How nervous Cas was. How it killed Dean inside that Cas was trying to build a life without him. He should have said something then. He never should have kicked Cas out, not after everything. 

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.” 

Nothing. In heaven, as on earth prayers usually go unanswered. 

There was so much left unsaid. So much he wanted to say after Cas’s “I love you”, probably things he should have said when he was among the living. It was so complicated there. But it seems silly now. The stupid things that held him away from Cas, from the magic between them. The time he spent worrying about what the very dead John Winchester would think. All the slurs, the ones his dad called Cesar and Jesse. How Dean never defended them. Then he thinks of how Charlie was the most amazing person he’s ever met. He wonders if the original Charlie is here too. God, Dean feels stupid.

Dean hates himself, almost as much as he hates that Cas died thinking his love was unrequited. Dean realizes he’s crying. He lets the tears fall, maybe this is the toll on the road to this happiness.

It wasn’t all lost, there were moments in his life with Cas where he was happy. Things he’s held onto. 

The first time Cas kissed him. He was recovering in a hospital bed after Alastair got his last digs in. Cas unable to heal him. The nurses had just come by to top off his pain meds, Cas watching over him. As he drifted off, barely hanging onto consciousness, Cas kissed his forehead then was gone. At the time, he thought it was peace and serenity, but maybe it was love. 

Or that hug after he saw Cas for the first time in Purgatory. Then Cas pushed him through the gate and stayed behind, Dean felt a lot like this then too. 

He tries to imagine the look on John Winchester’s face if Dean were to stroll into their heaven with a man-shaped angel on his arm for Sunday dinner. Dean laughs to himself. Dean’s actually not sure what would bother his dad more. The gay or the monster. 

“Jack, what the fuck is Dad doing here? Does everyone get into heaven now?”

Looking back now he goes over all his terrible choices, they don’t seem to bother him the way they used to. He supposes that’s good, but the Cas-sized hole in heart though doesn’t seem to be getting any smaller. 

“I don’t want to do eternity without you, Cas.” Is that a prayer? In his whole life, he never really got that down. 

The moment he realizes he’s bored with driving he finds himself by a lake. It’s got a long narrow pier. He recognizes it from a dream. He knows the water is warm, and that if he wants a fishing rod, it will appear, and he’ll catch small-mouth bass on his first cast. He knows that if he decides he wants company he just has to send some sort of general invite into space.

But all he wishes for is Cas. He knows the angel won’t show up. Dean is good enough for heaven, but not good enough for happily ever after. Fairytales are just a bunch of shit anyway. Forever is going to be a long time, but for now it’s a beautiful sunny day by a lake.

Dean wants his feet in the water and the sun on his face. He takes off his boots and his socks. The water level is high enough for his feet to soak in the water. It’s refreshing and perfect. He wishes it wasn’t. He wishes there was some fatal flaw. Something to make it feel real, maybe the feel of the deck under him, could be too hard. That’s what it used to feel like, uneven. But nah. It’s comfortable. He could stay here a long time. 

He’d been tired on earth, tired of the grind of feeling all the aches and pains from too many hits. Now, in heaven nothing hurts. He checks to find all his scars are gone. He’s back to the body he liked most. Fresh out of hell. He checks his shoulder under his t-shirt. There it is, Cas’s handprint. He places his hand on it. There is a connection there, he knows. Cas is safe doing heaven’s work, as it should be. Jack has fixed heaven. Sam, Dean knows, is living a good life. If he stretches his mind he can see it all unfolding, a wife who may or may not be Eileen (she’s out of focus), a son, the white picket fence, all the trimmings.

But Cas. Cas he can’t get a read on. That’s what it always comes down to. Dean decides on the one thing he truly wants, and he can't have it. Maybe that’s what Cas meant. But if he can’t have Cas, then what was it worth? Can he opt out of heaven, what are the other options? Deans lies back on the dock. He lets go and allows more tears to fall, all the ones he’d been holding since Cas disappeared. 

“Dear Cas, who are somewhere in heaven…  
Where are you, man? I need you. I have to tell you things. You don’t need to stick around but at least let me set this right.”

There is the flutter of wings. Dean bolts up but it’s a blue heron taking off a few feet away from him. 

He sees the fish jumping. It’s the perfect day. Maybe they are all perfect. Too perfect… maybe this isn’t heaven at all. Maybe this is some sort of hell where you get to have everything you want except for the one thing that you need to make it worthwhile, and being forced to watch everyone live their bliss. 

He weeps. All those weeks after Cas got sucked into the empty. All that time, when he put on a brave face for everyone when all he wanted was to feel the agony of his loss. The way Jack just rebuilt the worlds, and the folks were happy. Jody, Donna, the girls, Charlie, everyone. They were so pleased it was over. He was glad too. No one seemed to want to talk about the cost. And he couldn’t explain why his was suddenly so much greater than everyone else’s. Some things he just wanted to keep for himself. So he didn’t tell them, just something about Cas’s stupid brave last sacrifice for humanity. Jack knew, all he could offer Dean was a sad smile, but no angel. 

Nothing much mattered to him after that, not really. So he shoved it down deep. Pretended everything was fine. Maybe Cas was happy now, or he felt like his sacrifice wasn’t worth it in the end. Maybe he just wanted to fly around doing whatever it was angels did. Or Cas was disappointed in Dean. Maybe Cas was happy “in the being” and didn’t need more. 

Dean wanted more.

“Cas,” he says to no one at all. “There were a lot of things I wished I’d done differently. Dunno, we talk about the empty and regrets and well… for the most part, we did the best we could with the options given to us at the time. You know, before we realized that everything was pre-written. I hope you’re happy, and maybe I don’t get this, but I need to square some things with you. Closure.”

He’s not sure if getting to see Cas one last time is going to make it better or worse, if they can’t have each other. 

Bobby said everyone was happy. Maybe there is an adjustment period. Maybe the pain will lessen and he’ll be his normal self again, he’ll find his bliss (Cas) like Bobby and Karen, or Rufus and Aretha (that Aretha?), or even his mom and dad. He’ll feel happiness in watching theirs. But fuck, right now, it sucks ass. 

“All the times I should have said something but didn’t. I should have told you. All the times, we both spent far too long staring at each other, every single time I wanted to kiss you. I am so sorry I didn’t see it. Didn’t believe it, in you, in us.”

Dean swears he hears a rumble of thunder in the distance. Dean goes back to the car. He turns on the radio. 

“All killer no filler.” Dean mumbles to himself as the bar of Bon Jovi, “Wanted. Dead or Alive.” In all it’s cheese, he loves this song. Out of habit he checks to see when he needs to fill up Baby next. The tank is full.

“Right. Heaven. All right, Baby let’s figure out what we have to do to get Cas to appear.”

He pulls onto the road, puts on his turn signal and goes left. He wonders if there are car accidents in heaven. The flash of that first big crash, the one that should have killed him. The first deal -- the yellow eyed-demon, Tessa. Life before Cas, lots of beer, lots of monsters, lots of one night stands, and more than a few decisions--he wishes they’d done differently. Regrets, he’s got a few.

He thinks about Cas. Cas is wrong. There is no happiness in just being. Not for him. He hopes it will come.

“Cas, you stupid angel, I’m in love with you, probably have been since you first walked into that barn, light bulbs popping. Ok, maybe it wasn’t love, maybe it was more like lust. But I’ve never felt that way. I wanted to give myself over to you. I used to dream about touching your wings, the way they were then. Huge, powerful. God, then Metatron, and the way they looked after all that. I cried, Cas, over what being with us had done to you. I should have been there for you. Shoulda … should’ve done a lot of things. “

He drives. He should stop and do the rounds. See the gang. Take his mind off all this. But he just can’t bring himself to do it. He’s spent his whole life serving other people, maybe it’s time he took some time for himself for once. 

There is more open road, a bottomless tank of gas, and no need to stop. Until he sees a diner. He’s not hungry but feels compelled to stop. It looks familiar, maybe the diner from Twin Peaks. If it is, Dean will know this is hell. 

He sits at the counter. The waitress is stunning, just his type, but he feels nothing for her. She brings him a coffee. Is she a forgotten one night stand? It would stand to reason that some of those people may be dead. He sips his coffee. The man working in the kitchen says something. It’s the voice. Dean stands up. Sees the familiar wild dark hair. Dean jumps up before he has a chance to think. 

“Jimmy, could you pass me another cherry pie,” the waitress says. Not Cas then, just someone who looks like him. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse to be able to see what Cas used to look like. For now, it hurts. A lot.

“What’s his story?”

“Jimmy just wanted to run a diner. He got sidetracked in life. So he made this.” 

“Good for him.”

“Did you know him?”

“I met him once or twice. He was a good man.” 

Dean is crushed. Yeah, this has got to be hell. 

He leaves his coffee unfinished and gets back in the Impala. 

The road has changed. It looks like Louisiana. Maybe Cajun country. He’d like to see Benny again. If John is here then the vampire with the heart of gold might be too. It’s a weird place this heaven, Dean thinks to himself. 

“To whoever is running this joint, I don’t care about Jimmy. I don’t care about Benny. I only care about Cas. So get his feathery ass to me because I need to tell him a few things.”

The scenery changes again. He hears another rumble of thunder in the distance. He follows some dirt roads. He sees the barn, the place where they met. Parks the car, he’s not sure why but he checks out the trunk. It’s empty, save for a trenchcoat and that jacket with Cas’s handprint. He takes them both into the barn. 

“Well Jack, I know things haven’t always been great between us. I’m sorry. I thought things ended ok. I have questions, man. Why does everyone get their happily ever after but me? What the fuck man. I don’t get it. Am I so broken, so vile, that I don’t I get a slice of heaven.”

He’s pretty sure no one is listening. 

The barn looks exactly like it used to. The sigils are all still there, all the weapons, the bowl they used for the spell, and the demon knife Cas pulled out of himself. It’s as if it was just sitting here all this time waiting for them to find it again. 

“I was so fucking scared when you appeared here, Cas. My ears still ringing from our last attempt to communicate, Bobby telling me it was a suicide mission. Guess he was wrong. But man, you walked in here, I was a lot scared and a bit turned on. Maybe that’s why you kept looking at me funny.”

He’s not sure what to do. The ingredients are there for a summoning spell, so he tries it. It takes a few tries but he finally manages to get a drop of blood out of himself. Missouri always said that most of this stuff was intention anyway. He recites the words in latin, and lights the match and drops it into the bowl. 

Nothing. 

“I don’t understand.” 

He sits on the floor of the barn, head in his hands. He sees no reason to move. 

Memories flood in. Like the beating Cas gave him when he wanted to give himself over to Zachariah. He begged Cas to end it then and there. But Cas showed him mercy. At some point between being dragged into the alley and finding himself at Bobby’s, Cas--obviously still angry--pinned him one last time, Dean wasn’t sure if it was to kill or kiss. Dean went right to kill. Because no one falls in love with Dean Winchester. He’s too flawed, and filled with hate and anger. Still. Now. Even in heaven. 

He dusts himself off, grabs the coats, the bowl, the weapons and places them in the trunk of the Impala. He finds the weapons compartment empty. There probably aren’t a lot of monsters to gank here, but you can never be too careful.

He drives. He drives because he doesn’t know what else to do. He drives because it’s something to do. He listens to the radio, all those sad songs that remind him of Cas. Eventually the sun sets and he finds a spot in a field where he can see the entire night sky. 

He pulls a blanket out of the trunk, lays it over Baby’s hood. It’s quite the light show tonight -- a meteor shower. Like the night the angels fell. He hopes it’s innocuous, and just a light show for his benefit. Cas said that good things do happen. Dean’s never really been on the receiving end of that. 

“I miss you, Cas. I love you. I am in love with you. I don’t want to do this without you,” Dean tells the night sky.

“Jack, is there a plan B here?”

“Does anyone hate heaven, I mean it’s good and all but I think I might just hate it here?” 

Dean leans back, closes his eyes. He is just going to rest a moment, figure out next steps on how to get to Cas. Even if nothing comes of it, he’s got some stuff to get off his chest. Maybe Joshua is still around, or maybe Missouri or Pamela. Definitely Ash, if anyone can figure how to hack the heavenly program, it’s him. 

There is a breeze, and maybe birds flying off in the distance. He doesn’t even open his eyes. 

The car moves a bit beneath him, like someone is sitting here with him. He refuses to opens his eyes, maybe Bobby or his mom have come to give him a talking to. He doesn’t have the patience for a pep talk.  
“What do you want? I am glad everyone is happy. I just have to find my own happiness without Cas.” 

“Why would you do that?”

He’s about to reply before it sinks in. That’s Cas. The goddamned motherfucking angel of Jack. Dean sits up. Cas is leaning on the hood of the car, shirtless wearing a pair of low-rise jeans, wings out. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world. For the first time since he landed here, Dean smiles. Really smiles.

“Cas? That really you?”

“Hello, Dean.” 

Dean damn near leaps off the hood of the car and into Cas’s arms. Cas catches him easily. Dean is not wasting another second. 

“I love you, you stupid selfless asshole.” Dean pulls away and gently kisses Cas’s lips. “What took you so long?”

“I needed to look over a few things, make sure Jack was ok. I thought I had more time.”

“Me too, Cas. You here with me for good?” 

“I’m wherever you are. Jack says we both deserve it. He’ll come get us if he needs help, God rarely does.” 

Dean leans into kiss Cas. It starts off chaste, just brushing his lips against Cas’s. Honestly, they have an eternity to get it on so why not take it slow. But then Cas sighs, and parts his lips. It’s the most beautiful thing, and Dean can’t resist, he licks into Cas’s mouth, tasting him for the first time. It’s electric. Cas pulls him in closer. Dean feels Cas’s wings wrap around them. He reaches up and touches the feathers. He’d feared they’d be sharp. Weapons. But they are soft, gentle. They move under his touch, alive. Magnificent, incredible. Dean wants to rub his face in them. He realizes he’s pulled away from Cas’s lips. 

“Jack fixed them. Better than they were, I think.”

“God, Cas, you…” 

Cas runs the tips of the wing along Dean’s face. Dean realizes he’s crying. It’s going to be ok. It’s finally going to be ok.

“Tears of joy?”

Dean nods. “I thought I’d lost you. But…”

“I’m sorry for…”

Dean doesn’t care. He kisses Cas once more. 

“No more apologies. No more regrets. Just us. Ok?”

Cas smiles “Ok.” and he seems to glow a bit. 

“I love you, Dean.” 

An angel in love is a beautiful thing. 

“I love you, Cas.”


End file.
